


The Way to Men's Hearts

by KateKintail



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Daisy Chain of Awesome, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-03
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-28 02:14:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/669082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KateKintail/pseuds/KateKintail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ron and Neville “appreciate” each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Way to Men's Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: JKR’s characters. I play for free and for fun.
> 
> Written for the Ron/Neville week of the Harry Potter Daisy Chain of Awesome

Ron apparated in with a  _pop_  and burst into the kitchen in a flurry of giddy excitement. “Guess what I got today!”   
  
Neville, at the stove, turned around. “I hope it’s that soymilk I asked you to buy on your way home.”  
  
Immediately, Ron’s face fell.  
  
Neville sighed. “Why am I not surprised?” He turned back around. He waved his wand and the spoon began stirring on its own.   
  
“Aw, Nev. I’m sorry.” Ron came up behind Neville and wrapped an arm around his waist. “It totally slipped my mind. In fact, I thought we could go out and eat tonight. You know, to celebr—“  
  
“And you didn’t think to owl me and let me know? I’ve been working on dinner for the past three-quarters of an hour. I know you don’t think my job is as important as yours, but I work just as hard for just as many hours. And then I come home and try to make you dinner. The least you can do is acknowledge my efforts once in a while.”  
  
Ron frowned and slipped his other arm around Neville’s middle. He hugged Neville close and nuzzled his face into the back of Neville’s neck. “Nev, you know I—”  
  
“Of course I know,” Neville interrupted a second time. “But sometimes it’s nice to hear.”   
  
He sounded so sad that Ron couldn’t stand it. He turned Neville around in his arms and hugged him tightly. “You are amazing. And there’s nothing I like more than coming home to you and a hot dinner. I’m so lucky to have you.”  
  
“Damn right you are,” Neville agreed. He reached back and took the spoon out. He blew on the sauce, cooling it just enough so it wouldn’t burn Ron’s mouth, and offered it as a gesture of peace. Ron took a taste, and his eyes lit up again. “Not too much cilantro?”   
  
Ron shook his head. “No, that’s brilliant. Let me have another taste.” He bent his head forward, tongue out to reach the spoon, but Neville pulled it back with a laugh.   
  
“It’s almost done. Just wait a couple minutes and you can have all you like.”   
  
Ron pouted, not wanting to wait one bit. He proceeded to pull at Neville’s sleeves and robes, tugging and nagging, wanting to get closer, wanting more.   
  
Neville chuckled and hurried up. Soon the sauce was poured over the spiral pasta and each of their dinner plates were flanked with pieces of garlic bread and lush salads, made with vegetables from Neville’s garden. Ron didn’t waste a second before digging in. He always ate as if he had been denied food for days. Not only was it a little amusing, but it was also a bit flattering to see Ron so enjoy the food Neville had prepared.   
  
It wasn’t until Ron was halfway through his meal that he broke the silence by sitting up straight in his chair and exclaiming, “Oh!”  
  
Neville checked the table, thinking he had forgotten the salad dressing or butter or something. “More wine?” he asked.  
  
Ron shook his head. “No, I just realized I hadn’t had a chance to tell you. Guess who I tracked down today?”  
  
“No clue,” Neville said, shaking his head.   
  
Ron paused dramatically, then said, “Rabastan Lestrange.”  
  
Neville practically choked and had to force down his current bit of salad. “What?!”  
  
Nodding and beaming with pride, “Yep. We’ve been after the last of the Death Eaters for years and today we finally got the last of the Lestranges. Considering what he did to your parents, I thought you would be happy to—”  
  
Neville jumped up from his seat, darted around the small table, and tackled Ron to the floor. Ron’s head hit the floor with an uncomfortable  _crack_  and he winced, but Neville wouldn’t stop kissing him. Neville’s hand slid under Ron’s head, massaging the spot where it had hit, making amends, but he kept kissing Ron passionately, excitedly. “Why didn’t…” He kissed Ron’s lips. “You tell...” He kissed Ron’s chin. “Me…” He kissed Ron’s cheek. “As soon as…” He kissed Ron’s lips again. “You got…” He kissed Ron’s nose. “Home?”  
  
Ron chuckled. “I tried, love. But then you went all unappreciated housewife on me and brought up that I forgot the milk—”  
  
“Fuck the milk,” Neville interrupted. “Rabastan! You caught Rabastan?”  
  
“Well…” Ron’s ears went a bit pink. “Harry made the final capture, but I was the one who started dueling with him. I kept him there long enough for the other Aurors to swoop in and surround him.”  
  
“You could have been killed!”  
  
Ron shook his head and smiled. “Well… yeah, I guess I could have. But I’m a trained Auror. And I wasn’t going to let you down.”   
  
Neville kissed him again, impossibly harder, deeper. As Neville pulled at Ron’s robes, desperately wanting there to be no clothes between them, he heard Ron’s stomach rumble with hunger. And he saw Ron glance longingly at the table.   
  
Without thinking about it, Neville reached up and grabbed Ron’s plate. And, as Ron shoveled a forkful of pasta into his mouth, Neville’s head disappeared beneath Ron’s robes, between Ron’s legs.


End file.
